by Guy Antibes
“And you expect me to change in front of you? I will not!” Valanna said. The man kept provoking her. He must know she could destroy him with her magic. He had to know she could pose right in front of him, but perhaps Puddingfan was too thick to realize that.
The man threw up his hands. “Be that way. I will be waiting outside the door.”
Valanna looked at the silk dress on the bed. It was actually quite pretty and compared to the everyday apparel in the Balbaam palace, the cut was quite modest, which Valanna preferred. She followed Puddingfan to the door, locked it, and then quickly changed.
She refused to wear the uncomfortable looking shoes Puddingfan left behind and wore her own. Valanna looked at her image in the mirror, and concluded it was sufficient to talk to the Pestlan King. She sneered at her face, hoping that an angry look would chase off the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach, and walked into the corridor.
Puddingfan abruptly jumped to his feet. “King Harl awaits.”
Did the man have nothing better to do than to wait for her to change dresses? She shook her head as she straightened her back and followed Puddingfan into the King’s Court. She had never been this far into the palace, and Valanna had to admit the thought intimidated her, even though the King was such an awful man.
Puddingfan nodded to a guard, who opened the door. He ushered Valanna in before him.
“Valanna Sleekbottle of Balbaam.” The man who announced her lifted a cane as tall as he and slammed the end into the marble floor. “You may approach the king,” he said quietly.
The sprinkling of courtiers looked at Valanna with curiosity.
“Come, come,” King Harl said.
She could see a similarity with her father’s eyes, so she remembered, and the King’s. She advanced and curtseyed, just as Madame Barazzi had drilled into her back in Espozia.
Harl raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Courtly manners for a Warish barbarian. We do not like you poking around Pestle, our kingdom. What say you?”
Valanna stood with her hands folded just so at her waist and bowed before addressing the King. “I have returned to reacquaint myself with the friends I made when I engaged in education in Pestledown, Your Majesty.”
“Have you found all your friends?”
“Podor Feely and Timor Saddlebug treated me as if I was royalty, Your Highness. I have met those who befriended a schoolmate of mine. You might have heard of Trak Bluntwithe? He distinguished himself in the Santasian civil war.”
The King lead forward. “As did you, I understand, Miss Sleekbottle. Your valiant acts have recently reached our very ears,” he said, and then nodded to Mr. Snively, who Valanna just noticed hiding behind a column in the room. What game did he play now, or was he her protector while in the palace?
“I would like you to stay with us for a bit, but my advisors have declared it an imprudent gesture. Do you agree?”
Valanna colored. She knew what the King meant, but she snatched a quick breath and smiled. “I do indeed. My business is not quite finished in Pestledown. I seek a few more friends, and when I find them, you can be assured I will promptly return to Balbaam Palace where my liege-king Marom holds court. He is, as always, interested in the doings in Pestle and in your Court, as I am sure you are interested in his.”
Harl colored at the mention of King Marom, and for good reason, Valanna thought. The time had come to twist the knife. “I would hate for misunderstandings to arise between the two adjacent countries caused by such a lowly person as myself. I am sure my sponsor in the Warish Court, Prince Asem, would be disappointed in me if I were to embarrass myself in your presence.”
The King recoiled at her words. Mentioning Asem should keep the filthy hands of the King off of her for a little while at any rate.
Harl lifted his chin and blinked a few times. She had indeed rattled him. “Then you have my leave to enjoy the city. Before you leave, please notify Lord Puddingfan, so we can provide you with an appropriate escort back to Balbaam.”
Valanna bowed. “You have my promise that I will do my best to notify you when I leave.” That day would never come, Valanna thought.
The King flitted his hand, signifying that her audience had ended. She turned and glanced at Snively, who smiled and nodded her way. Valanna walked slowly from the room. She noticed two Vashtans wearing Pestlan-style court dress standing in a corner. They nodded towards her, but did not smile. She easily detected the ill will in their black eyes.
“I will take you to your rooms,” a woman dressed for court said on the other side of the double doors. “Lord Puddingfan will continue to wait on the King.”
That suited Valanna just fine, and as she walked with the woman in silence. She quickly changed her clothes and was escorted to the palace gate. No soldiers waited to escort her back to The Looking Inn, which must have been an hour’s walk from the palace.
A carriage stopped in front of her. Esmera opened the door. “I am glad to see you out of that place.” She scowled at the palace gate. “Get in for a safe ride home.”
Valanna wasted no time climbing into the carriage. After they left, she looked back and noticed four riders behind them. “Are those your men?”
Esmera laughed. “I have no men, but they are in my employ. I wouldn’t trust Harl or Puddingfan to let you return without incident.”
“You mean—“
She nodded her head. “I am sure you would have been assaulted at the very least by real ruffians in the King’s employ, not mine.”
Valanna narrowed her eyes. “At the very least,” she echoed. “I let the King know that my situation would be conveyed to the highest level in Warish.”
“And I suppose that was no idle boast, my dearest Valanna?”
Valanna couldn’t help but smile. “No idle boast, at all.”
~
Days passed, as Valanna still adhered to the actions of a person under house arrest. She received few visitors, but one day Leaf Gougepenny stopped by.
“Please, come in,” Valanna said. She noticed Berin Titrius standing by the stable yard entrance to the inn. She walked out to the balcony. “Berin,”
The man looked up. “I know it’s you,” Valanna said. “We met enough times in Bitrium. It’s close enough for lunch. Have Esmera bring up enough food for three and join us up here.”
He looked embarrassed, but nodded and disappeared into the inn.
“Your husband can join us. He’ll know everything we talk about soon enough, so he might as well hear it from me directly. Perhaps we can exchange some information.”
“You know?” Leaf looked uncomfortable.
“That you are paired? Honor told us after she had been expelled from Bitrium.”
“She was never really expelled,” Leaf said.
“I know. She left before the Board could act.”
Leaf nodded and looked concerned. “This will be a frank meeting?”
It was Valanna’s turn to nod. “If you want. I don’t have a lot to add from when we last talked except confirmation of the Vashtan influence in King Harl’s court.”
“We know.”
“I also can give you a bit more insight into what is going on in Pestle, from my point of view, of course.”
Leaf gave Valanna a little bow. “We have heard most of what you have accomplished, but your point of view might be very useful.”
Valanna rose at a knock on the door. Berin entered. He still looked a bit flustered, but took a seat at Valanna’s table.
He looked around the apartment. “I’ve heard of these very rooms. They have had some illustrious tenants.”
“Coffun Cricket, Neel Cardswallow, or should I say Fidelia, Trak Bluntwithe, and, most recently, me,” Valanna said.
“As I said illustrious. Esmera, the innkeeper, said she would deliver her best meal in a few minutes,” Berin said.
“I hope you like Pestlan food. Esmera’s is superb,” Valanna said, and meant it.
“I like Pestlan food,” Leaf said. “I�
�m not so sure about Berin. He hasn’t been around much.”
Valanna smiled, remembering the bland cuisine of the Colcanans. She turned to Berin, a man who likely voted to execute Trak. “Is this your first visit to Pestledown?”
Leaf put her hand on Berin’s. “His first and last. Valanna said we should all be honest.”
Berin gulped and looked away. “We leave tomorrow.”
“Both of you?”
Leaf nodded and looked intently at Valanna. “The Vashtans takeover of Pestle is certain, in our estimation.”
“That is a recent development.” Valanna didn’t pose it as a question, but Berin nodded his head.
“Our source said months, if not weeks.”
Coffun Cricket? Valanna wondered who among her spy-friends had told Leaf.
“It takes weeks to get here from Bitrium,” Valanna said.
“When you were abducted by Podor Feely, I thought it time to retrieve my wife,” Berin said.
Leaf nodded. “And since I told Berin about the abduction, I agreed that I needed to go.”
“So this is a goodbye?”
“It is,” Leaf said. “And a very urgent warning that it is time for you to go back to Warish. Did your audience with the King go that badly?”
“Not badly at all,” Valanna said. “I got the impression that he didn’t like me, but I didn’t pick up that he was murderous.”
“Anything can change,” Berin said.
“I’ll talk to Esmera before I make a move, but I appreciate your thinking of me.”
“It’s the least I can do for Trak,” Leaf said, throwing an irritable look at Berin. Valanna could tell that Leaf disagreed with the Board’s decision to terminate Trak.
Valanna rose at another knock on the door and two maids and a stableboy delivered their meal and a bottle of wine.
“I am hungry, so let us eat and talk of other things. Did you have any other questions come up since your last visit?” Valanna looked at the servants setting up their meal and straightened out her dress and then sat back down.
Over their lunch, Berin pulled out a notebook and took notes of Valanna’s recounting of Trak’s description of his adventures in Torya, including his time spent in Kizru.
Valanna cleared the dishes from the table while she finished answering Berin’s questions.
She sat back down and poured another round of wine. “Now it’s time for you to answer my questions. Do you agree?”
They both did. She rose and pulled out Trak’s portfolio. “I need a little help with power words.”
Berin and Leaf looked uncertainly at each other and then at Trak’s work. “Those are Colcanan secrets.”
Valanna shook her head. “A few are, but Warish magicians know about fifty poses, and the Magician’s Guild knows more. I don’t want to spend the rest of my time rooting around for the words until Trak returns from Bennin.”
Leaf sighed. “Very well. I’m the best magician in the family, so we can go over the portfolio. Trak has done an admirable job, hasn’t he, Berin?”
“It’s much better than my own,” he said.
“With emphasis on the much, Valanna.” Leaf said drily.
For the next half hour, Valanna wrote down the power words on a separate sheet of paper and coded the order. Now she could learn all the poses. She gave them ten Warish power words that used the same poses, but produced slightly different results.
“That was exhausting,” Berin said.
“Speak for yourself.” Leaf poked Berin in the ribs. She looked at Valanna. “Your power is still discussed in Bitrium, my dear. Please use it wisely.” She put her hand over Valanna’s. “I would regret becoming enemies in the future.”
Valanna smiled. She didn’t feel much warmth in Leaf’s comments. “I don’t see Warish and Colcan at odds with one another. King Marom doesn’t have designs on any country on the Cokasan continent that I know of. All he really wants is Warish, Sesta, and Pestle to unite. The Ferezan tribe doesn’t seek to rule the world. It would take them too long, if Pestle is any indication. They have worked on this country for twenty years.”
“That’s because they don’t have the men to fight,” Berin said.
“And to rule,” Valanna said, accepting his assessment. “How can we spread ourselves any thinner?”
“I am happy to hear that. Even though Trak is exiled, you are welcome in Bitrium, Valanna Almond. We two are aware of your true parentage, but won’t abuse that knowledge.” Berin looked at Leaf. “We still have some packing to do.” He stood up and helped his wife to her feet, and then the pair left.
Valanna had pushed Snively’s revelation about her heritage to the back of her mind and sat, swirling the last of her wine, thinking of fading recollections of her father, since she had none of her mother. To think she might be of royal blood? She shook her head in disbelief. It all seemed preposterous, but if people thought that way, it would influence their actions.
She put her hand on Trak’s portfolio. Magic was her true talent, and something she could rely on, as long as she could pose. Valanna felt the need to talk to Esmera and put Trak’s portfolio in its hiding place before she sought out the innkeeper.
~~~
Chapter Fifteen
~
“I’M BETTER,” TEMBUL DECLARED, SITTING UP in the low Benninese-style bed.
Trak had spent four tense days nursing Tembul back to health. The Toryan had withstood too much strain on his body given his age, but eventually the red streaks of infection had finally disappeared. Trak could once again close his wounds.
“How is your patient?” Mori said, sticking her head into Tembul’s bedroom. The three fugitives had taken over the third floor of her house, but even that floor had its own privy and indoor plumbing. How the Benninese were able to pump water up three stories without magic still amazed Trak.
“I will leave this bed behind today,” Tembul said.
“For a few hours,” Trak said. “He’s still weak.”
Tembul sat back when Mori left them, closing the door to the bedroom that the two Toryan’s shared. “I admit it, but I’m eager to learn poseless magic.”
Trak called Sirul in. “Before we go any further, I will give you a demonstration of what Jojo and I learned in the mines,” Trak said. Sirul and Tembul leaned closer to Trak.
Looking at the two of them, Trak put a ceramic cup on the floor. “I will move this just in front of the door,” he said.
The Toryans looked on as Trak took a slow breath and moved the cup to the door. Sirul rose from his seat and bent over to pick it up.
“Don’t, it’s too hot to touch!” Trak said. “The transfer heats the object up.” A few tendrils of smoke rose from the wooden floor. “See?” Trak took a small towel and picked up the cup and put it in a basin of water. Steam rose from the vessel and then settled down.
Tembul’s eyebrows rose. “Then I suppose that technique won’t work on humans?”
“If you want to kill them, it will,” Trak said. “But you will notice that I did not pose. It’s dangerous to perform poseless magic when you think of poses.”
Sirul folded his arms and sat back in his chair. “We are taught that any magic without a pose is just plain dangerous.”
“Poseless magic takes a different visualization, and you need to practice.” Trak looked at Tembul. “I recall you have a spell to see the magical channels in my body, right?”
Tembul nodded.
“You have to visualize the energy working through you, not the pose. Think of it as the power channeling out of your body, working your will,” Trak said. “Jojo knows how to do perform some poseless magic, but I got the impression that not many Benninese can. I will teach the technique, and then it’s up to you to make it work.”
“I can’t wait,” Sirul said, rubbing his hands and grinning.
Trak put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You might not have enough power, so don’t be disappointed if you can’t do a lot.”
Sirul looke
d a bit disappointed, but then brightened. “I am willing to learn.” He jumped when someone knocked on the door.
“Lunch is ready,” Mori said through the door. “Can Tembul make it down?”
Tembul laughed. “I will, even if I have to roll down the stairs.”
~
For the next few days, Trak taught Sirul and Tembul how to visualize using poseless magic, but visualizing the technique and making it work didn’t come easy to either of the men.
“I want to try to move something,” Sirul said after they had finished lunch.
“Let’s go outside. I thought that we should practice out there, so Sirul doesn’t burn the house down,” Tembul said. “I’m not quite ready to walk up to my bedroom anyway.”
“That will work,” Trak said, gazing at the windowless buildings looking down on the bare dirt of the courtyard. He had brought an orange out with him. “I intended to try something out here, so now you two can look on.”
Trak set the orange down in the dirt and contemplated the orange peel. What would keep the skin intact, a coating of ice? That wouldn’t be too practical, and if the Vashtans used a similar pose, they would all be wet when they materialized. Trak hadn’t noticed such a thing, but he had to start somewhere.
He visualized his power coating the orange with a thin rim of ice and transported it a pace away.
“It is steaming!” Sirul said. He bent over and tentatively touched the orange. “Hot, but not burning.”
Trak looked at the orange as it collapsed into a sodden mess of limp peel. “That didn’t work. I’ll have to think on this,” he said. “Let’s practice on making fire, instead,” Trak said. He rose and snapped off three thin branches of the only tree that grew in the stable yard. He handed one to Tembul and another to Sirul.
“Just like a wand—“
“We don’t use wands in Torya,” Tembul said.
Trak smiled. “If you don’t want to burn your fingers, use these to carry a magical torch. Now, what you are working with and visualizing is the flow of energy in your body. Tembul has seen my energy flow—“
“And a nice flow, it is,” Tembul said. “Sirul knows how to see a person’s energy, too. It’s part of our training.”